#'Go on Mac baby- fuck this dude up you got this!'

[supersecretnerd]

Oh horrible Google Translations by beloved

[jenniferjareauwife]

Would you maybe write something in the cowgirl au about something about the guy from the bar coming up again in reader’s life and she tries to hide it from JJ but is so upset and can’t?

Officer Davis

pairing: jennifer jareau x cowgirl fem reader

category: hurt/comfort

warnings: rape

word count: 1088

summary: your rapist comes up in your life again and jj comforts you

I flopped down on the hotel bed, happy to visit Texas. JJ was here for a case and I decided to tag along so I could visit my hometown.

I lifted my head off the pillow as my phone rang. I grabbed it from the nightstand and answered the call. "Hey baby." I heard JJ's sweet voice and my heart fluttered.

"Hi."

"I'm gonna go down to the police station. I've heard you might know a few of the guys." I could hear her smile through the phone.

"Tell me their names and I might be able to give you a few pointers."

"We've got...David Stafford."

"I went to high school with him. He's a cool dude. I didn't know he was a police officer now. He's really into football. He's gay though. So you shouldn't get hit on by him"

"Thank God. Trent Porter?"

"No. Never heard of him."

"Ok last guy...Brady Davis?" My heart stopped as my blood went cold. "Y/n?"

"No I uh...I don't know him."

"Ok." I knew she could tell I was lying but didn't want to press. "I'll be back in a few hours. Text me if you need anything, ok? I love you."

"Love you too." I hung up and pulled my knees to my chest, my brain felt loud but quiet at the same time. It was him. From the bar. The guy who raped me. How did he even become a police officer? Someone like him was supposed to be protecting the citizens? How fucked up was the system here?

I had no idea how much time had passed but I had just sat there in bed, alone with my thoughts until the hotel door opened. "Hey babe. I brought back some Panera." She handed me a bowl of mac n cheese, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "Everything ok?" I just nodded, not saying a word. "Do you still wanna go out and walk around?" She took off her coat.

"I just wanna stay here." My voice was quiet and no matter how much I tried to make it stable it still wavered.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I took a big bite of mac n cheese.

"Ok...but you were really excited to walk around since you haven't been here in a few months and now you just want to stay in the hotel room. That isn't like you and I'm concerned." She sat down next to me.

"Well you don't have to be concerned. Can we just go to bed? I'm really tired and I haven't seen you all day and I wanna cuddle and go to sleep."

"Ok. We can do that." She kissed my temple and took my food so she could put it in the fridge. She came back over and laid on her back so I could crawl on top of her. "Good night my love."

"Night night."

I couldn't fall asleep that night, no matter what position I slept in. I had been trying to sleep for 6 hours and it just wasn't working. I thought of him. I thought of him knowing I was here and wanting to talk to me. To torment me. "Baby...why can't you sleep?" JJ yawned and rolled over to face me.

"Hm?"

"You've been tossing and turning all night." She lazily wrapped an arm around me. "Come here. I wanna cuddle." She gently kissed my shoulder before resting her head in the crook of my neck. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

"It's clearly not nothing." She kept her voice gentle, tracing soothing patterns on my belly. Her eyes were still shut as she cuddled up against me. "I always know when you're upset. It's like a sixth sense. But I know it's really bad this time. I wanna help you. Can I please help you?"

"I don't...it's not something you should be worried about."

"You're my girlfriend. I'm always gonna worry about you." She kissed my neck tenderly and I could tell she was fighting off sleep. When I stayed silently she picked her head up from my neck and kissed my lips. "You can tell me anything baby."

"It's Officer Davis." I whispered.

"What about him?"

"He was..." I put my hand over my mouth, covering my face. She grabbed my hand gently and brought it to her lips, kissing it softly before kissing my shoulder.

"He was what, baby?"

"That guy. From the bar." My bottom lip trembled but my body relaxed as she scooped me into a big hug. "I thought I would never have to see him again but now I'm in the same town as him."

"Well you don't have to see him my love." She kissed my temple. "We can go back home if you want."

"But you're on a case."

"It's ok. They'll understand if I need to go home." She stroked my hair, holding eye contact with me with so much love in her eyes. "Just say the word and we can go home."

"But I don't wanna tear you away from work."

"Hey...baby that's not what you would be doing, ok? I would much rather go back to DC and make sure you're ok than stay here where you're not ok. You'd do the same thing for me." She pointed out.

"Ok. But I don't wanna leave. I'll stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm."

"Ok." She kissed my forehead. "But you have the right to change your mind at any time."

"Thank you." I leaned my forehead against her chest, really wanting a hug. She got the message and wrapped her arms around me.

"Of course." She pulled me into her lap, kissing the side of my face a few times. "Just tell me if you need anything, alright?"

"Mhm." I leaned into her as much as I could, wanting to feel her body against mine.

"I love you so much." She gently grazed her fingertips over my back, wanting to make me feel as comfortable as possible.

"I love you too." I rested my chin on her shoulder and shut my eyes, feeling so tired after all the anxiety. "I wanna sleep."

"Ok baby we can-" She started to move me to lay down but I stopped her.

"No. I wanna stay like this."

"You're like a toddler." JJ laughed, stroking my hair gently. "We can sleep like this if you want."

"Thanks." I tucked my face into her neck, feeling myself start to drift off. "Love you."

"Love you too. Good night."

"Night night."

[noceurous]

Hey, Mac!♥️ my made up fic title is ‘Jealousy looks good on you’ 🌸🙏

this took some really good amount of time to reply back. i’m sorry for replying late but i wanted to explore on different themes.

note: this is my first joel fic please be kind everyone.

jealousy looks good on you

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, implied sexual behavior, swearing, infidelity, awful pick up lines and some rude behavior. minors dni (18+), reader is afab and able bodied.

It did not mean anything. You were actually more annoyed than flattered when the guy approached you.

“Hi baby, I see you've got some tequila. Does that mean you wanna give me a shot?”

You rolled your eyes at the pick up line.

“Thank you, but I’m actually seeing someone.” You explained as you turned your back towards him, waiting for your boyfriend to come back from his chat with the bartender.

The guy whistled as he checked you out as you bent slightly on the table. Placing his hand on the small of your back. “With an ass like that, I believe it is rude to not share it.”

Before you could repeat yourself Joel approached the two of you, holding the guys hand by his fingers. “She is not interested.” Joel spoke under his nose, bending the guys fingers back.

“Joel.” You warned him, holding his arm.

The guys knees were bent, making aching noises. “Shit.” The guy muttered trying to flex so his fingers would not be broken.

“Let him go. It’s okay.” You spoke lowly, scrunching the sleeve of his flannel. Your nails dug into his skin through the fabric.

“Say you are sorry.” Joel spoke again, still not looking not at you.

“Fuck! I’m sorry.” The guy said, getting his fingers back. “I would not approach her if I knew she was your girl.” He muttered as he took his drink back with his other hand. Walking back to his friends.

“What the hell was that?”

“He was touching you. I did not like it.” He explained simply, placing his glass on the table.

You cocked your head, squinting your eyes. “Are you jealous, of him?”

He did not reply, simply taking a large sip from his scotch. You did not bother to hide your smirk, giggling at his state.

“I like this possessive side. Jealousy looks good on you.” You said, hitting on his shoulder with yours.

Before he could open his mouth to protest, his brother came back holding his beer. “What’s with all the giggling?” He asked, placing his arm on your waist pulling you closer.

“Joel was being my hero, saving me from some random dude.” You said as Tommy kissed your temple.

Tommy pouted slightly, nodding as he raised his bottle, clicking it to Joel’s glass. “Thank you brother for saving my girl. I owe you one.”

Joel did not said anything, looking at Tommy’s hand on your hip as you turned slightly to whisper something to his ear. His touch on you got tighter as his finger played with the hem of your top.

Joel felt the ugly emption tickle his throat. It was something he could not shake off with alcohol.

You were his brother’s girl no matter what you told him night after night as you two were wrapped around each other in his old bed.

You were Tommy’s and Joel was jealous.

-end(?)

[marsbabysblog]

preoutbreak!dbf!joel thought of the day :

your dad was hosting a barbecue for the neighborhood. joel, sarah, and tommy came over as well.

you babysat sarah when she was little. she was 14 now and you were 25. tommy had always expressed interest in you before, but was too shy to say anything.

joel noticed the change in tommy. the way he would look at you, the way he talked about you. the way he thought about you. but, joel had the same exact thoughts. but, you had the same exact thoughts, for joel. what no one knew was that every time sarah was dropped off and joel had a day off, was that joel had you bent over, fucking you into oblivion in his bed.

you sat down next to joel with your drink in your hand. "damn, you drink now? i remember when you were 11, taking care of my daughter. you know i never thanked you for that. how can i ever repay you?"

you told him he didn’t have to, that you didn’t want compensation for it. he whispered to you, "really? you don’t want my hand in your panties, babygirl?" you blushed and pushed his hand away from your thighs.

you whispered back to him, "i always want your hands in my panties, daddy. it’s just that everyone is here. i don’t want anyone knowing what a slut i am for you." and shut your mouth. you got up to get yourself a drink and joel got up and said that he’d go with you.

you went inside to the kitchen and felt him rush up behind you. he pulled your dress up to your hips and smacked your ass. "give me one good reason not to bend you over this counter and spank your little ass till it’s red. feel my cock rubbing against your cunt? feel how hard my cock is for you, princess?”

you nodded and stood all the way up to kiss him. he turned you towards him and asked you, "where’s your room at baby. cant wait much longer, need to be in this pussy." he said and pulled your dress back up as it fell back down. he cupped your pussy in his hand and you started to grind up against it.

you overheard your dad say, "i’m gonna get some more mac and cheese." as soon as he said this you shoved joel down behind you and bent over the counter, knowingly giving him easy access to you.

your dad came inside and said, "where’s joel" you shrugged as you felt your panties being pulled down. you were so unbelievably lucky that from the angle your dad was standing at, he couldn’t see joel behind you. you felt your legs being pushed apart and all of a sudden, you felt a wet sensation on your pussy. you let out a low moan as your dad whipped his head around to see if you were alright. you nodded and told him you’d be out in a second.

he left the kitchen and you turned around, joel’s mouth never leaving your cunt. you grabbed his hair and he pulled you on top of his face. he laid you back on the counter and kept eating you out. you had your hands laced through his hair and shoved his face closer to your center. he put his hand over your mouth trying to keep you quiet but the feeling was just too good

"please daddy, please let me cum. i’ll be so fucking good for you. i’ll bend over the counter and let you take me any fucking way you please, just let me cum. " you pleaded to him. he used his opposite hand to rub circles on your clit.

"cum all over my face, princess." he coaxed you to your climax. you came on his face, but felt something different coming. "joel. it feels like i’m gonna pee. move." you said and tried to push his face away from you. "i’m not fucking moving.” he said and kept licking your cunt. as it came closer, he picked up his pace and said, "you ready, princess?" and put his middle and ring finger inside of you. your vision went white and it took awhile for you to come down. "what just happened?" you asked him. he grabbed your chin and said, "you squirted."

OKAY IM DONE.

Oh my god im literally in love with you that was perfect….

Dude the squirting part is literally making me squirm it’s so good, I need more please 🙏 That was so fucking hot

-marsswann

[glennjaminhow]

oohh okay okay. sickfic where dennis has the tiniest little cold or smth and is being SO overdramatic about it so mac will take care of him

Thank you for the prompt!

~

Dennis is annoying.

Okay, everyone already knows this. The dude is a fountain of complaints and unhappiness to the point that Mac isn’t sure he’s ever really been comfortable anywhere. Mac’s convinced Den popped outta his mom’s vagina like that, all cranky and irritable and dramatic. He met Dennis when the dude was barely 16; his hair was too curly, and his ego was too big from being a yuppy rich kid. Yet – and he still doesn’t understand this – here they are 30 years later, where Mac’s got a lifetime of calming Dennis down under his belt.

Except he hasn’t been successful today. Something is different about today.

For starters, Dennis woke up late, grumbling under his breath about being cold. Except it’s the middle of May, and there’s absolutely no logical reason for him to be cold, but that doesn’t stop Dennis from bitching every three Goddamn seconds at Mac to turn on the heat, to which Mac responds with a quick “fuck that,” because, seriously, fuck that. It’s close to 80 degrees outside, and the humidity is atrocious. Like he said, there’s no logical reason for Dennis’ behavior (there never really is), and Mac is convinced that he’s sunk into the depths of Hell long before they even leave the apartment to go to work.

For seconds, Dennis has this cough and runny nose that’s been bothering him for the last couple days. It’s barely anything bat an eye at. But, in true Dennis fashion, the guy will not stop bringing it up. Last night when Mac was cooking dinner, he went on and on about how he couldn’t smell anything, about how his throat was starting to hurt from coughing, about how dangerously dehydrated he was, and why wasn’t Mac making him drink water? It’s a stupid question because of course Mac’s been force-watering Dennis since 1999, but Mac pointing out that fact doesn’t make the situation any more better. In fact, something about him saying that offends Dennis. Although, what doesn’t offend Dennis? But anyway, Den spent the rest of the night sulking underneath a blanket on the couch, demanding that Mac rub his calves, which Mac was gonna do anyway.

And, now, Dennis is sitting at the bar, sneezing wetly into his open palm.

Mac rolls his eyes. “Do you need a tissue?”

“Don’t use my own line on me.” His voice is nasally.

“What? Ew. No, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Dennis scoffs. “Ew? What do you mean ‘ew’?”

Mac sighs. “Nothing. Never mind. Here.” He hands Dennis a crumpled tissue from the pockets of his Dickies. “Blow your nose.”

Dennis snatches it from him. “Don’t tell me what to do.” But he blows his nose messily anyway. “Jesus Christ, when is this gonna stop?”

He’s dangerously close to rolling his eyes, but he’s probably, like, reached his daily quota of eye rolling, so he settles on looking Dennis over instead. The guy’s wearing an oversized hoodie, something he wouldn’t typically be caught dead in. His baby blues are a little bloodshot. He isn’t wearing any foundation, and his hair is tousled from all of his irritating body noises. He is a little paler than normal. Not anything super significant, and it’s nothing to worry about, but it’s still just a little out of the ordinary.

“Relax. You’re being dramatic,” Mac finds himself saying as he takes a swig of his beer.

Dennis snaps his head back, eyes wide. “Dramatic? I may be dying, Mac, but I see that doesn’t matter to you.”

Mac snorts. “Dying? Den, you have a cold,” he says. “I’m not even sure I would classify this as a cold.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice is getting all high and whiny in that way that Mac hates. “You wouldn’t ‘classify’ this as a cold? Look at you using big words all of a sudden.”

“Hey, I use big words all the time!” Mac exclaims.

Dennis sticks his tongue out at him.

Mac punches Dennis on the arm.

“Fuck,” Dennis groans as he rubs his upper arm. He sniffles and wipes his nose with his sleeve instead of using the tissue in his hand. Mac tries to ignore how pitiful and pathetic he looks. “Why would you do that, Mac? I’m sick.”

“Oh my god, dude, you’re not sick! You. Have. A. Cold.”

Dennis basically sticks his bottom fucking lip out and looks all of ten years old once Mac says that. He coughs and clears his throat before putting his head in his hands. He’s bent over the bar and sniffling every five seconds, and it’s starting to drive Mac up the wall. He doesn’t understand why Dennis is like this literally every time he has a cold. God forbid he ever gets the flu or some shit because then – oh, boy – that’s when the real fun starts. When Dennis is sick, actually sick, he likes to bask in denial until he’s practically hospitalized.

Mac exhales and reaches out until his hand is on the small of Dennis’ back. Charlie and Frank are messing around in the basement, and Dee – the bitch – never showed up for work today, so he doesn’t have to worry about any of their stupid questions or hurried accusations about how ‘gay’ they are. He rubs his lower back with his thumb. Dennis doesn’t flinch or pull away. In fact, Mac thinks he feels him kinda sink into the touch a little bit. Huh. Maybe he isn’t feeling too good after all.

“Why don’t we go home?” Mac suggests. “I’ll put in a movie, and we can just chill out the rest of the night.”

Dennis sniffles. “I’d like that,” he says roughly.

So that’s what they do.

Mac drives back to their apartment because, in the fading afternoon light, Dennis does sorta look like crap. He keeps the car quiet and absurdly warm. Dennis nods off long enough for Mac to grab some overpriced cold meds, tissues, and cough syrup from the Wawa. By the time they arrive home, Mac is manhandling Dennis out of the Range Rover and up the stairs. Dennis coughs and wipes his nose on his sleeve again.

“Go change into some PJs. I’ll put in Predator.”

Dennis returns a couple minutes later in one of Mac’s few long sleeved shirts and green plaid pajama pants. He takes a seat on the leather couch and leans his head on his arm. Mac changes too and sets the box of tissues on Dennis’ lap, who immediately digs into them. Orange juice and cold meds in hand, he sits down shoulder to shoulder with Dennis, who is looking more miserable as the minutes pass.

“I got you some cough syrup too,” Mac says as he gives the meds to Dennis. “Just in case.”

Mac watches as Dennis swallows the juice and pills. He gulps noisily and swipes a tissue under his nose. “Ugghhh,” he murmurs. “This sucks.”

And that’s when Dennis puts his head on Mac’s shoulder. Mac stiffens and tries to steady his breathing. He and Dennis have had nights like this before, where touching isn’t so foreign and scary, especially recently. Eventually, Mac melts into it too, gently settling his head on top of Dennis’.

“Thanks,” Dennis mumbles nasally when they’re five minutes into the movie.

Mac’s eyebrows furrow. “For what?”

“Takin’ care of me.”

Mac nods. “Course, Den.”

Yes, Dennis is annoying, really annoying actually, but he’s a lot less annoying like this.

Mac settles in for an early night and tentatively presses a kiss to Dennis’ temple.

Dennis hums, and Mac feels whole.

[cartoonkitten]

100% wolf music headcanons or something i’m bored and feeling stupid /silly/nsrs. apolgies if inaccurate but like. cmon. they’re all weird so expect random (also i like random ass music ok)

freddy — green day type shit ngl. sum 41, surf curse, misfits? idk. asap rocky too maybe, the cure, smashing pumpkins. also, abba, like cmon. butthole surfers, bloodhound gang, blink-182,

batty — SANTIGOLD SANTIGOLD SANTIGOLD. ALSO CYPRESS HILL. electric six, eels, placebo, ghoul, creature feature, jason derulo?, maroon 5?? OUTKAST, horrorpops? tiLLie, bangs, SKATING POLLY

ivan — def korn or something but also fleetwood mac tbh. ik it’s random but hear me out, he’s genuinely a fancy dude, he would be into that magical 80s music. ALSO duran duran, gorillaz, divinyls, primer 55, x-cops, ramones, danzig in general, finntroll

kitty — A BOHAB? 100% A BOHAB (gwar). LUNACHICKSSSSS, the cramps obv, white zombie and rob zombie duh, mindless self indulgence, polkadot cadaver, primer 55, blood red shoes, BAD BRAINS BAD BRAINS,

scarlett — koffin kats (my favorite character my favorite band ok). AND I ALREADY SAID SHE LIKED THE CRAMPS SO YEAH. linkin park tbh. YOOO SCREWED UP CLICK AND LIL KEKE?? dollyrots, stolen babies, muse, 12 stones probably, outkast, also polkadot cadaver, finntroll

aggie — RED HOT CHILLI PEPPERS? also green day, AND B-52S OMGGGGG. usher, the go-gos, marina, tv on the radio, the cure, samantha fox

omar — duran duran, teamonade, ramones, silent horror, HE WOULD LIKE YOUNG FATHERS IDK??? weezer?, steve lacy, black sabbath,

wendy — electric six, willow, doja cat, THE BANGLESSSSS, pink, blondie, tears for fears, outkast, ALSO STEVE LACY AND DURAN DURAN AGAIN,

winslow — hell yeah oingo boingo. smash mouth, bryan ferry, he might dig i monster idk lol, pixies, adam ant, the bangles and b-52s also, the chills, spice girls??

this is all i got rn and it’s forever all over the fucking place cause bro i’m always listening to songs and like "*POINTS* YOU. (so and so 100% wolf character) WOULD LOVE THIS. AND YOU. AND PROBABLY YOU." and yeah i’ll prolly add more laterz

[clarissaexplainingitall]

oh yeah for anyone curious how the budgie is going:

we have been experimenting with different flavors of music. so far, they like fleetwood mac, smash mouth, shakira, only some of the elden ring soundtrack. making a playlist for when i have to be out of the house

we have finally begun to consistently step up, though they really do not enjoy me moving my arm while they're perched so we're working on it. still, this is extremely good, considering how long it can take some of them to get over clipping trauma. vet is next week so hopefully that doesn't set us back

i have tried at least five distinct methods of encouraging bathing and instead we choose to scream with a face covered in [currently] cherry stains about it being itchy. well you dumb cute bird there's wet leaf and shallow dish and also mist bottle. pick one of those or messy face. (occasionally wet leaf is acceptable provided i am not watching, so i'm hoping we warm up to the concept. i'd try running water but without flight feathers i worry about re-traumatizing with handling)

this is also more challenging bc beast is baby-molting face feathers and will not let me help with the pins yet but neither am i permitted to help mist them to make them easier to preen so instead we have opted to Loudly Complain about it

when they sleep they pull one little foot in and i die every time from how fucking cute it is

we have adopted a habit of chatting softly to ourself when it is nearly time for bed, and then we get on our little swing and chirp insistently until the shark bedsheet is appropriately draped and it is. again, the cutest thing possible

we fucking DESPISE the sounds made by the bears in stormveil in ER. same, little dude

aunt got them a shredding toy with a little bell and i need to ask where because that shit is a lifesaver. instead of screaming on my zoom calls now we just talk to Shred Toy With Bell and ring it. but the sheer volume of the bell cannot remotely compete with flock calling so it is just easier for everyone

speaking of flock calling, i got a quarantine cage and will be assembling that this week so as soon as shelter has budgie 2 (or budgies 2 and 3) operation acquire a friend is so literally a go

[wiltf]

you’re five minutes into filling in the headline with a pen, when your phone buzzes.

twice. three times.

and you are determined to ignore it, because you are. not stubborn, but insistent. researching. intently reading the necessary magazines and were in fact busy studying the local lineup, thank you. definitely, absolutely, not being stubborn and ignoring your phone.

god, you can’t even convince yourself that you’re not being a dick.

phone flipped over, and there are too many notifications for the shit brick to deal with. clogged up and awkwardly glitching over each other, but the lil rain cloud is still apparent. stupid lil icons and stupid lil messages and you’re opening them anyway, because you’re a dick and a sook and plant your cheek on your desk, holding the phone in front of your eyes.

threatening to go cross-eyed.

ah, fuck it. phone rings, screen turns on, and you look like shit. it takes about five rings for seven to pick up, and he looks equally fucked up. bleary-eyed, cheek on desk. a line in his forehead that doesn’t look right.

you’re not sure what to even say.

“so.”

“so.”

who said it first? second? god. shit. fuck. girl, help. you barely showered and your hair is still damp and you can still remember the way he held you. the way you literally broke rule number one of being in a band.

but on the other hand, you totally got why fleetwood mac was able to produce the music it did. would that also be a dick move to write — y’know what, thought for later.

right now, you’re just holding seven’s gaze, until he’s sinking his teeth into his lower lip and. he’s in the same way. you know that look — you know that look — and it’s all about reaching through the screen and kissing him and going back in time and shaking yourself and towelling down your hair and hanging up and,

and,

you bite the bullet. “how’s your morning been?”

“bit cold when i woke up…”

yep, that was a really noticeable wince from you. well you didn’t mean to run out. you panicked! a normal reaction. totally normal for someone who blurred that line of friendship and sexual (and maybe romantic?) because she had a big dumb mouth and he had a big dumb—

hm. no. stop that train of thought. “seven, i just—”

“we can go back to before, if you want.”

it was always wild to you that people thought seven was cool and calm. he had those big baby doe eyes that gave far too much away, especially when they were turned on you. got you doing all kinds of stupid shit growing up, because seven was. is.

“i don’t think i know how to. only so many friendships survive seeing each other naked.”

you mean for it to come off as a joke. it doesn’t land. sure, you’d seen each other in whatever over the years but there was a difference between outright seeing that like last night. and touching. and kissing. and putting your lips on him the way you did.

“jen, do you—do you not want to—”

loud swallow. adam’s apple bobbing. the bruise is visible, the one you left there. but his eyes are going red and you’re torn between it all. because you fucking loved last night and you got all those fantastic feelings rushing through you and it was seven but then you woke up and realised. you fucked up. you crossed that line and you don’t know how to go back because he looks like he’s gonna cry and your hormones were sitting right there with you. going crazy.

“i fucking love you, dude,” you say, all thick and heavy and his lips were looking a lil bruised too. goddamn. “i shouldn’t have… i ruined it.”

because you were horny and in love and riding off a high from the last gig and seven was there. always just in reach. and you’d noticed him from day one but something about last night just. “i shouldn’t have asked you to fuck.”

“saying like i didn’t want to.”

you snort, despite the situation. “yeah, you made that pretty obvious.”

his turn, corners of his mouth jumping just a fraction. “i meant what i said last night, too.”

“i know.” pause, before you exhale. sit upright. “me too.”

“i know,” seven says in a way that is definitely threatening on repeating yourselves into a cycle of ‘me too’s. and last time you did that, it got very close to a few tears and wails and throwing yourselves at each other.

actually,

“what are you doing now?”

puff of air that hits the curls across his forehead. “honestly? was gonna spend all day thinking about calling you, so that’s as far as i got with planning.” there is that slip of a smile now, all sexy and cute and tempting you through a crackly screen.

but you know. that underneath it, in the corner of it, was that anxiety you felt. it’s not quite gone from your chest, and the regret is still heavy. it’ll probably keep you up at night for far too long, because it’ll be that little worm in the back of your mind, about whether you should’ve crossed that line.

“wanna come over? i have new face masks and like four bags of popcorn going out of date soon.”

“you always know how to treat me right.”

seven is all a blush high on his cheeks and curls framing his face in all the right ways. looking at you like he had last night. maybe you’ll talk about it. maybe you’ll put it into a song. put those words in a bottle and throw it into the ocean.

“see you soon?”

“always.”

man, you were so fucking in love with him.

[mygwenchan]

Stray thoughts while watching Love Syndrome III - EP5

Day wore that cast for weeks or even months... yeah I wouldn't want to touch it, that thing is nasty

The strippers are a nice touch though hehe

Jealous Day is jealous. He really doesn't want anyone to look at his man

Yes please, everyone take something off! Itt should start with his wig 🤣

Ohhh~ Itt was totally into that thing with the belt, what a naughty boy 😉

Cue Mac & Nan: Yeah, sorry folks. But it you see something like this, call the police ASAP and get that poor boy out of there. That's even beyond bad bdsm etiquette. Mac, my love, you should just castrate Nan. Maybe that would help

What's with the 70s porn music lol And suddenly everyone is making out ✨Is this a party or an orgy, who knows~

YES MAC throw that water into his face, baby! Throw the glass as well, fuck it, throw the whole bottle! Well, at least Day seems to feel a little bad for Mac, everyone else just ignores the situation (fuck them tbh)

Acts of service in the bedroom. We like to see it. They really need to have Long shirtless at least once per episode, huh? Maybe it's part of his contract? Maybe they knew his abs would save the series lol. They are nice abs though, I have to admit

Cuddle time~ That's cute

Flashback time~ The confusion is real, Day's as well as mine. Also, that kid Salmon is a shipper, they're really starting early these days 🤣

Sorry Day, but Itt is right. Car racing while being in that poor health condition is just asking for an accident to happen

Oh, Mac is back! Sweety, grab a car and run them all over. Just a suggestion

Itt fainted again, didn't see that one coming tbh. Was it too hot for him? Was he too stressed out? Probably both. Dude needs a vacation

Cute moment in the office. We like to see it. But Day, don't just answer Itt's call, not cool man. How did Itt later on know that it was Ball who called though? Ah jealous Day is jealous again. My dude, chill. Your boy isn't going anywhere

You go tell him, Itt! Day doesn't even try to remember you...

Oh? Looks like Itt is getting sick again. I feel him, I always get sick when I'm too stressed out, fever and all. Don't recommend. Also, I officially love Nik: "According to what I've studied, I think I can diagnose you. You're likely just sick!" LOL

Day: "Why does he love someone terrible like me?" Because it's the Stockholm Syndrome, baby~ 🎉✨

Not Nik suggesting that Itt got a fever cause he's on his period. DUDE XD He is the most character ever

Are they ever going to get into that car, or? Ah, now Day has another flashback and bad headache... Hmm, maybe that's why there are so many side characters? They're needed to hold Day and Itt when those idiots faint again

Tiny Itt curled up on the bed 🥰

Day "You can't take a shower, you're sick." Oh oh? Does that mean what I think it means?

YES, THE MAGICAL BL TOWEL MADE A COMEBACK!! They did skip the gay checkered sheets though, so one point deducted for that one

Most unhinged moment of this episode: Day taking a shower FULLY CLOTHED. Come on production folks, that would've been THE perfect excuse to show us Long's abs again, ah...

More fainting to come in the next episode. Stay tuned~

[tearfallpixie]

Blurb #21 for @witchyweeb34

Ok ok this one was in my head for a bit and I love it. It actually was a Poly story in the works with Vinny and his roommate (Finnick) who I created. This will actually be all of what i have written for this one.

~~~~

“Fin!” I giggled. I was currently hanging out with my boyfriend, Finnick, at his place and we had been playing video games on the wide screen tv. Currently he was pinning me to the couch and tickling my sides, having gotten upset that I had won against him in pvp on call of duty.

“Apologize!” He scolded me.

“Never! I won fair and square!” I shook my head in protest. He continued his assault, making me squirm until we both rolled off the couch into a pile of limbs. “Ha!” I cheered victoriously, looking down at him. He pulled me down and brought me into a breath taking kiss.

“I love you.” He murmured.

“I love you too, loser.” The front door opened making us both sit up. I glanced over the back of the couch to see that Vinny, Finnick’s roommate had returned from his 5 month tour. “Vincenzo!” I screamed. I bolted off of my boyfriend and threw myself into the drummers arms who had to drop his bags to catch me.

“Hey Kitkat!” He laughed as he spun me around. He set me down and pulled Finnick into a hug too when he made his way over to us. “Nik, its good to see that you didn’t burn the place down while I was away.” He teased.

“Not from lack of trying.” I laughed. “I swear if I wasn’t here to cook for him, he would have.”

“I’m not that bad!” Fin protested.

“Sweetie, you burnt cup mac and cheese the other day.” I rolled my eyes.

“I was tired! I forgot to put water in it.” He pouted. I kissed his cheek before grabbing Vinnys hand and dragging him to the couch.

“Tell me all about tour! How was it? Did you enjoy traveling?” I asked. Fin sat on the other side of me and wrapped an arm tightly around my shoulder. “God I wish I could go with you. I would love to see the world.”

“Maybe one day I can convince Fin to let you out of his grip for a month.” I cheered and pulled Vinny into another hug. We sat there chatting for a bit about his tour and what the other half of the world had going on. I noticed that my boyfriend had been oddly quiet so I turned to him.

“Baby, are you ok?” I placed my hand on his thigh and rubbed it gently.

“Fine. I have a headache.” He muttered. “I think I’m going to lay down.” He stood up and disappeared down the hall leaving me confused.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Vinny mumbled.

“Yeah.” I whispered. “You’re probably right.”

“So, I wanna stream a little on my month off. Can I count on you to be gaming with me?” He asked, shifting a little closer.

“Always. You know I love gaming with you.” I murmured.

“Kate?” He asked. I looked up into his sparkling green eyes and cocked my head. “Can I kiss you?” I jerked back and glared at him.

“What the fuck?” I exclaimed. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Just one kiss.” He begged.

“I love Finnick! I-he’s your roommate!” Sure, I had imagined what it would be like to be with the drummer, but I wouldn’t sacrifice my relationship with my kind and loving boyfriend to try it once.

“He’s not here right now. Come on.” Vinny crawled towards me with a predatory look on his face. He was inches from my face when I finally came to my senses and brought my hand down on his cheek.

“Fuck you! You absolute bastard!” I yelled. I jumped off of the couch and moved across the room as Fin came running back in. I threw myself into his arms and clung to him as I buried my head into his neck.

“What just happened?” He growled, shooting daggers at his roommate.

“I just proved that your jealousy was miss placed.” Vinny shrugged.

“What?” Both Fin and I exclaimed.

“How did you not notice that he was jealous since the moment I got home?” The drummer laughed. “I wanted to test what you would do if I offered myself to you and you turned me down. There for his jealousy was misplaced. Though I do have to say, you have quite the power behind your slaps Katie kat.”

“Dude, that wasn’t your place.” Finnick snapped, holding me tighter as I sniffled into his shoulder. “Kit? Are you ok?” My boyfriend asked softly.

“Can we just go to your room please?” I whimpered. He nodded and shot one last glare to his roommate before guiding me down the hall. I had so many emotions coursing through my body at that moment. I almost wanted to say yes, to fall into the arms of the drummer and kiss him, but Finnick had been there for me through everything. He had been my elementary school best friend. He had been there for me when I got my first boyfriend. He had been there when my second boyfriend had sexually assaulted me and had even beat him to a pulp before taking me home to my parents. And just last year, when my parents had passed away, he was the one who was there for me when I had to go to their funeral, pack up their house and sell all of their things. He had been my rock and I’d be damned if I messed that up ever.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to lead him on or anything. I love you. I don’t- I can’t want him if it means losing you.” I sobbed once we were cuddled into his bed.

“Do you want him?” He asked.

“Not if he’s going to pull shit like that.” My eyes went wide as I finally admitted to him and myself what I had been feeling. “No- I- I don’t.” I whispered. “Finnick, I swear. I don’t. I want you. It was you who has been through everything with me. I can’t do this without you.”

“I trust you baby. I will admit I am a little jealous of the relationship you two hold but after today I know where your heart lies. But here’s the true question. Can you do this without him? I know he’s become such an important part of your life lately.”

“Yes I can.” I said firmly.

“Let me rephrase that. Do you want to?” My response wasn’t so quick that time around.

“Yeah. After what he pulled today, I don’t know if I could trust him.”

“Do you want to?” He repeated.

“No.” I admitted. “But I want you more.”

“Wait here.”

[jorgecrespo]

1 4 5 6 (have fun with that one) 15 17 23 (idk how to even interpret that but spread hate<3) 28 32 38 39 go crazy

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

the age of 10 and 17

living in nicaragua for a year. found out i actually like people and i'm not a beach person because the ocean is very scary

the liza minelli tries to turn on a lamp snl skit

what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

it's an inside joke with my family and it has to do with eric clapton's dead son. i have no excuse and it's not my fault

what made you start your blog?

started this blog because of druck (😩). i was on the tag but everyone was like IF YOU DON'T REBLOG THINGS YOU'RE THE DEVIL and i felt bad so i made this and then it's all been downhill every since

what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

best part is obviously all the people i've met from all over the world. from germany to australia to indiana (🤢) and everywhere in-between. i feel like the world is at my fingertips. the worst part is seeing the worst takes that anyone has ever thought and i feel my brain rotting away. also, old woman moment, i hate watching these kids grow up on the internet, it's like watching worms take over their brain

what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

yeah i'm an adult but also....my stuffed animal brownie 🥺. that little dude goes everywhere with me

name 3 things that make you happy

my cats. if i'm sad i just look up and see their little fluffy faces and then i feel ok

all my internet friends. love seeing everyone's dumb posts

every night i grab my pepper spray and walk around the neighborhood and it has actually improved my overall mood it's insane. who knew

say 3 things about someone you hate

let's talk about scott meyer

after leaving the mental hospital (literally across the street from it) he asked "kallie why don't you have a job" mere moments after he was kicked out of a bar for being too drunk. so i asked why he doesn't have a job and he got all mad and said WELL I'M TRYING and then i started yelling at him in the pizza place but my excuse is i was pretty drugged up and then he just never got a job

attacking the whole house (which included a literal baby btw) and then stealing one of their cars while insanely drunk after hitting me and biting someone else and then i waited outside for the cops while eating mac n cheese in the rain (shout-out to the eugene oregon police department for not finding a drunk man on the empty roads at midnight and just saying "we have people looking")

STEALING MY CLOTHES FUCK YOU SCOTT

do you collect anything?

i don't really collect anything rn but i do have a lot of rocks from my childhood/teen years. i still love a good rock

how many tabs do you have open right now?

44 and they're all unimportant but i'm not deleting any of them

fave song at the moment?

for the fifth year in a row, hounds of love. i will inform everybody if that changes

youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?

this is a great place to bitch about youtube because i used to go on there all the time and now i barely go on there. mainly just to watch random clips of shows and sports compilations because the ads are legitimately terrible. it's impossible to watch anything anymore. every two minutes, BAM another ad like it's fucking torture. a five minute video takes eight minutes it's insane. who let this happen

[fezco-youphoria]

Stars

a/n: finally got over the writers block!

summary: While Fez and Ash deal with some shady customers at the store, you hide up on the roof and stargaze.

pairing: Fezco x reader

It’s a quiet night at the convenience store. Fez stands by one of the entrances and you’re sitting on the counter next to the cash register. A few customers have come through, but most of them were just there to see Ash in the backroom.

Fez feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He takes it out and reads a text, raising his eyebrows.

“Yo Ash! Mac just texted. They about to roll up in here,” Fez announces to his brother, then turns his attention toward you, “Baby, you gotta step out for a minute. These dudes kinda thug.”

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, understanding.

Most of the time Fez didn’t mind if you were around for a deal. You never really interacted unless it was Rue or another one of your friends from school. But this is different. Some of Fez’s customers are bad dudes and he doesn’t want you near any of that shit.

You get off the counter and quickly grab your stuff.

“I think I’ll just sit up on the roof until the coast is clear,” you tell Fez, and then, “Could I have like a joint or a blunt or something? Smoking would help pass the time.”

Your boyfriend nods. He takes the blunt resting behind his ear and gives it to you.

“Thanks baby,” you smile, taking his hand.

“You know I always got you, shawty,” he nods and squeezes your hand back.

You stare into each other's eyes, having a little moment, when a SUV suddenly pulls up to the store’s entrance. Two men get out of the car. Fez’s body tenses and he backs away from you. He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t have to. The look on his face is telling you to leave now.

“See you later,” you whisper to Fez before walking away. You go out the other side to avoid passing the customers.

“Hey baby. Where you goin’?” one of the guys calls out to you.

“You don’t gotta go,” the other guy snickers.

You just keep your head down and continue walking. You feel a little uncomfortable but you know that Fez has your back. He won’t let anything happen to you.

“Your girl’s fine as hell. The fuck she doin’ with you?”

"Don't worry about what she's doing, man. Worry about yourself,” Fez shrugs coolly.

Then he opens the fridge door to the backroom. He just wants to get these guys out of here as fast as possible.

“C’mon, man. Ash is in the back.”

The two men step through and Fez follows. A few minutes later, Fez leads the guys out. They get back into their SUV and take off.

Fez walks outside as they leave and watches them drive away. He feels his body relax as the car becomes more distant. As soon as the SUV is no longer in view, Fez goes to check on you.

Fez gets on top of the ice machine and then climbs up on the roof. He finds you lying down comfortably, smoking and stargazing. You have your AirPods in and don’t hear Fez approach. He lays down beside you to get your attention.

“Hey Fezzy. Did those creepy guys leave?” you ask, exhaling some smoke.

“Yeah. They gone now,” he reassures you.

You take another puff from the blunt before passing it to your boyfriend.

“What you listening to?”

You hand one of your AirPods over to Fez. He puts it in his ear and he starts hearing a dreamy pop track. Fez smirks to himself. He’s always loved your taste in music.

Fez takes a hit and gives the blunt back to you.

"Do you know what that constellation is?" Fez points up to the starry sky.

"No, what is it?"

"I don't know, that's why I was asking you," Fez chuckles.

You laugh, turning your head towards Fez. You’re looking at your boyfriend with heart eyes. You love Fezco so much. You snuggle up closer to him and he wraps his arm around you.

You and Fez finish smoking the blunt together as you enjoy the beautiful starry night.

[pub-lius]

Do you have any completely random facts about some of the people who lived during the Revolutionary war?

Oh man, I have so many you don't even know. I'll try to think of the best ones.

Well, my personal favorite is that George Washington's favorite breakfast food was hoecakes. They're actually pretty good. They're basically like pancakes but with a corn flavor.

When Gouverneur Morris was in France (during the French Revolution), a mob attacked his carriage, and he stuck his peg leg out the window to shoo them away. It worked.

Everyone hated Benjamin Franklin. Anyone that spent too much time with him was like "no this guy sucks." My friends like to remind me of the fact that he had a fart fetish, so that might have contributed to that.

Honestly, the most of my random facts come from either Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and Aaron Burr, so here's a rapid fire of my top facts about them: Franklin electrocuted himself with a turkey, Jefferson really really fucking loved mac and cheese (more than my parents love me), and one time Burr tried to put a candle out by shooting it (Burr has a bad history with candles and guns).

Everyone on here knows about how Richard Kidder Meade went into a chimney to read his letters in private, but I have to include it because ~Meade~.

One time Lafayette danced with Marie Antoinette and stumbled and she laughed and he was literally traumatized (he was very dramatic about it).

My favorite Hamilton fact is that during the Constitutional Convention, he bet Gouverneur Morris that he wouldn't go up to Washington and slap him on the back like they were best bros, and Morris did it, and almost got punched in the nuts by Washington. I really like referencing that one.

One time John Laurens basically threatened the king of France. More detail on that later. He also threw a tantrum in every battle... ever. He was a man baby, sorry John.

Mozart also tried to pull the moves on Marie Antoinette, but got rEJECTED HAHA BABY LOSER IMAGINE COULDN'T BE ME. He also did gymnastics.

Dolley Madison did drugs, but Thomas Jefferson didn't want her to do drugs, so she went to James Monroe's house to do it. Jefferson was a nark smh.

I also have some fun ones about James Madison. Uhhhhhh one time he bought prostitutes for a foreign diplomat!

One time, a citizen made Andrew Jackson a massive block of cheese. It was there for like a really long time, until finally they just invited like all of Washington D.C. to a party to eat it. But there was still more cheese when the next president moved it. Another reason to hate Jackson: he was very inconsiderate with his cheese.

Deborah Sampson was the baddest bitch in the whole damn war like omg. She joined the war in the place of her father, got shot, rEMOVED THE BULLET HERSELF bc if a doctor did it they would realize she's a woman. I bow to her, she was amazing

I thought of these all on the spot, so I could probably come up with more/better ones if I dug real deep into my mind palace, but dude im tired rn, so i hope you learned something (sorry about the fart thing) and thanks for the ask!

[glennjaminhow]

Nuts

The ER is packed.

Thanks to Mac’s hideously grotesque features and labored breathing, they get to cut in front of all the other bozos with broken arms and screaming babies. It’s a good thing too because Dennis isn’t sure how much longer he can stand the distorted, puffy face or the Godawful wheezing. The face is one thing; he looks like a monster, but he’s still Mac underneath all the swelling. But the wheezing is another story. He doesn’t like it. It’s loud and annoying and generally unpleasant, and it makes him want to rip his hair right out of his skull.

He wouldn’t look good bald. Everyone knows this.

Dennis attempts to read the news on his phone, but he can’t focus on it. He has a massive headache building right behind his eyes. The lights are too bright, and the constant repetitive noises from the emergency room weigh heavily on him. Instead, he leans back in an uncomfortable plastic chair and rubs his forehead with trembling, cold fingers. He concentrates on keeping his breathing even and deliberate.

He can’t lose it now.

Mac needs him.

The dude’s a Goddamn idiot for continuing to eat those Fancy Nuts.

Some doctor gives Dennis the lowdown, informing him that Mac will have to spend the night here on oxygen with periodic albuterol treatments. He’s got an IV pumping him full of antihistamines to relieve the worst of his symptoms. An allergy test was performed on Mac like he’s some kind of lab rat. The test confirmed that he’s allergic to both peanuts and tree nuts.

Apparently, allergies can develop over time and with age.

As soon as he hears the word ‘age,’ Dennis cuts the doc off.

Mac’s got an oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose. The horrendous swelling is nearly gone. He stares at Dennis with droopy, bloodshot eyes. Mac reaches out with his free hand – the one without the IV and pulse ox attached to it – and smiles unevenly. Dennis takes it and rubs his thumb over red knuckles.

There’s a piercing shriek followed by a strange flushing noise off to their right. Dennis flinches hard, drawing his shoulders up and hunching in on himself. He shakes his head and tries not to scream. Of course these idiots wouldn’t give Mac a private room. Of course he’s stuck out here with the loonies. Of course. When the sound happens again, he bites his tongue so hard it trickles blood inside his mouth.

Mac must notice because he gently squeezes Dennis’ hand.

And no. Just no. Dennis should be the one comforting Mac, not the other way around.

“How’re you feeling?” Dennis asks quietly. He takes a seat in the chair behind him; he doesn’t let go of Mac's hand.

Mac clears his throat. “’m ‘kay. Wanna g’home.” His voice is garbled, thin and painful.

Dennis nods. “I know, bud, but you gotta stay here tonight. The doctors wanna make sure your breathing is okay.”

“M’breathing’s…” Mac wheezes and inhales sharply. “Great.”

He’s about to roll his eyes, but then that fucking shriek-flush happens again, and, Jesus Christ, is someone actively dying on the shitter? The noise makes his skin crawl. He wants to yell. Scream until he’s blue in the face because how dare some toilet-screaming psychopath interrupt Mac’s healing process. Don’t they know he’s suffering from an extreme allergic reaction? Don’t they know he needs to rest and recover? Don’t they know that SCREAMING in a fucking HOSPITAL should be outlawed? God forbid HE be the one screaming.

And he can feel himself slipping. Slipping back into the old Dennis. The old Dennis who absolutely would scream back at a moment’s notice. The old Dennis who isn’t on a cocktail of mood stabilizers to help calm him down. The old Dennis who doesn't listen to reason. The old Dennis who isn’t going to therapy once a week to try and sort out this… his… issues.

He doesn’t want to be that guy anymore. He’s… He’s evolved. He’s…

“You’re okay, Den,” he hears Mac whisper. “You’re good.”

Dennis bites his bottom lip. Nods. Looks into Mac’s swollen brownie eyes. He’s supposed to be here for Mac, but he isn’t doing that. He’s too focused on the hospital making its noises. He’s gotta focus his time, his energy, om keeping Mac safe. On making Mac feel better.

He swallows thickly. Rubs the back of his neck. Takes a deep breath.

“Do you need anything?” Dennis asks. He tries not to acknowledge the faintness of his own voice.

Mac shakes his head. “Jus’ you.”

Dennis rubs his thumb over Mac’s knuckles again and leans back in his seat.

He isn’t going anywhere.

~

Morning comes, but not quickly enough.

Mac’s woken up in regular intervals throughout the night for breathing treatments. Dennis doesn’t sleep, his nerves raw. The shriek-flushing eventually stops, but the constant beeping from monitors and the rustling of sheets and curtains floods his brain. It’s too much. It’s just too much. But he knows there’s an end in sight.

The doctors discharge Mac around 8:30, after a hellish 18 hours of hospitalization. He’s prescribed two EpiPens for the nut allergies, along with extra strength Benadryl and an inhaler for the leftover side effects of anaphylaxis. Dennis elects himself in charge of the EpiPens, which Mac is okay with in his exhausted state. There’s no way he can trust Mac to hold onto something so vital, so crucial to his safety. Mac never worries about himself; he’s always more concerned with Dennis. That’s not gonna fly here. No, Dennis will oversee the EpiPens, just like how Mac oversees Dennis’ eating schedule.

Mac is shaking as Dennis loads him into the passenger seat of the Range Rover. He grabs the plushy blue blanket from the trunk – the one Mac put there for cold mornings and nights during their work commute – and drapes it over Mac, who instantly melts into the fabric. Dennis smiles sadly as Mac buries his face in the quilt. Within seconds of putting the Rover in drive, Mac is sound asleep, wheezing slightly with his chin dipped to his chest. The thirty minute ride is silent, just quiet enough to begin thawing out Dennis’ knotted nerves.

He’s pulling into a parking space at their apartment when Mac coughs himself awake. It’s riddled with mucus, but somehow empty sounding at the same time. He doubles over, saliva pooling on his Dickies. Dennis immediately reaches out and rubs his back, wincing at the redness of Mac’s face, the harshness of his breathing, the heat bleeding through his jacket. When it’s obvious this coughing fit isn’t subsiding on its own, Dennis pulls the inhaler out of his jeans and presses down on the canister once Mac is ready for it. The medicine seems to help quickly. Mac breathes easier and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Thanks, Den…”

“Let’s just get you up to bed, pal.”

Dennis is not Mac, meaning that Dennis cannot carry Mac. He has too much mass. And excuse him for not wanting to live in the gym and look like some kind of huge freak. He’s svelte and lithe, and, okay, maybe he has lost some weight recently, a loss he’s trying to hide with slightly oversized flannels, but that doesn’t concern anyone. But what does concern him right now is that, fuck, maybe he should’ve been working out more to prepare for emergencies like this. Maybe he should’ve been tacking on mass too instead of getting rid of it.

Maybe then he’d be able to help his buddy out of this jam.

“C’mon, Mac,” Dennis grunts, as he shoulders most of his roommate’s weight. Mac leans heavily against him as they walk inside their apartment building, an arm wrapped sluggishly around Dennis’ neck. He’s beyond grateful for their service elevator at moments like these. They don’t typically use it, not unless they’re carrying a shit ton of groceries or liquor, but it turns out to be a saving grace. Dennis unlocks the door in one swift motion with Mac wobbling and sticking to him like glue.

It’s then that Dennis realizes they have a problem. A big problem.

Their bed is filled with Fancy Nuts. Dennis remembers sleeping on them – or with them? – a couple days ago, back when he and Charlie weren’t sure Mac was gonna pull through this.

“Just… Just sit here for a few minutes,” Dennis says, gently pushing Mac down into the pink inflatable chair.

Mac shakes his head. His brown eyes swell with tears. “Wanna go to bed, Den…”

“I know, baby boy. But I gotta clean our bed.”

A couple tears stream down Mac’s cheeks; Dennis wipes them away.

“Don’t feel good…” Mac whines, hiccupping messily.

Dennis’ insides clench.

He presses a kiss to Mac’s temple and runs his fingers through his hair for good measure. Mac sniffles and leans into the touch.

“I’ll be quick, okay? I just gotta change the sheets and sweep the floor.”

He should mop too, but he can do that later, once Mac is safely tucked into bed.

“You’re slow as shit at everything though,” Mac whimpers.

Dennis rolls his eyes. He removes the nut-filled sheets, blankets, and pillowcases and tosses them into the trash. He can’t handle if anything else happens to Mac, so he isn't taking any chances. He checks all the nooks and crannies of their inflatable couch-bed for nut dust. He sweeps their floor and puts their bed back together again. By the time Dennis is finished, he’s sweating, and Mac has his head in his hands, hunched in on himself and trying not to cry.

“Bedtime,” he whispers as he coaxes Mac up by his elbow.

Mac obliges wordlessly. He stumbles a little bit, catches his balance, and plops face-first into bed. He quickly rolls onto his back when he realizes he still can’t breathe for shit. He pants and coughs dryly. Dennis yanks his boots off and pulls the covers up to his shoulders. He’s about to go sit at the kitchen table to read and try to fully calm himself down when Mac grabs his forearm with clammy fingers.

“Don’t go…”

Dennis sighs and scrubs a hand down his now stubbly cheeks.

“Fine,” he huffs.

He toes off his shoes and lies down on the bed. Mac immediately moves until his head is on Dennis’ chest. Dennis tenses up at first but quickly relents once he realizes how comfortable – how safe – he feels. It doesn’t take long before his eyes start to get heavy and flutter. He tries to stay awake, just in case Mac needs anything, but he gives in not longer after Mac drapes an arm over his middle.

Dennis’ eyes droop closed, surrounded by warmth and peace.

~

The next morning, it’s obvious that Mac still feels like shit.

The dude may have slept most of the day away yesterday, only waking up to take medicine and piss, but he’s still really out of it. He can’t string more than a few words together before he’s zapped of energy for the next several hours, unable to do anything other than lay in bed.

Dennis finally convinces him to take a shower, brush his teeth, and get comfortable, from which Mac emerges soaked to the bone, unable to even dress himself. Dennis gets him into boxers and a baggy t-shirt, has him brush his teeth in bed, and bundles him in blankets. Mac is furiously hot to the touch; Dennis wonders if this could possibly get any worse.

He doesn’t like it when Mac is under the weather. He hates it, if he’s being honest. Mac is such a constant force in his life that him not being annoying is actually more annoying than him being annoying. When Mac is sick, he gets all quiet and mopey. He loses his spark and falls into himself. He will neglect his wellbeing in favor of sitting around with a dangerously high fever or coughing up his lungs until his face turns blue. Last December, Mac caught the flu from Dennis, and he had to be dragged to the hospital because his fever was so high and wouldn’t go down no matter what Dennis tried.

Dennis cleans their apartment from top to bottom while Mac sleeps. He gets rid of every single food item containing peanuts and/or tree nuts, including his own favorite brand of peanut butter. If he wants it in the future (which is unlikely given Mac’s new allergies), he can hide it in his dresser like he does with his cigarettes and razor blades. He tosses out protein bars, miniature Reese’s cups, peanut butter crackers, and almond milk. He isn’t even sure if almonds are a tree nut, but he is sticking to being safe rather than sorry.

He sweeps again and mops every room. He dusts, does several loads of laundry, and wipes every surface. He doesn’t want to take any chances. He can’t take any chances.

When Mac is out of commission, nothing feels right.

He hates this new level of vulnerability he feels creeping over him and slowly morphing him into someone who gives a shit. He hates taking meds twice a day and going to therapy once a week. He hates trying to follow an eating schedule. The only thing he likes about his ‘mental health journey’ (as Mac’s been calling it) is that Mac’s around. Dennis is trying to be… less.

Less explody. Less ragey. Less angry.

Mac is the only one who notices, but he supposes that’s okay.

Dennis is in the middle of folding his pajama when Mac stirs. He stretches out like a cat and smacks his chapped lips. He rubs his eyes with his knuckles and looks all of five years old while doing it. Dennis tries to ignore the way his pulse throbs in his throat.

“What’re you doin’?” Mac slurs, voice raspy.

“I’m compulsively cleaning the apartment,” Dennis answers truthfully.

Mac’s eyebrows furrow. “Why?”

Dennis scoffs. “Why?” he asks incredulously. “Because you almost died! You… You had a reaction to those fucking Fancy Nuts, and now I have to –”

He stops himself. Takes a deep breath. Pinches the bridge of his nose.

Breathe.

There’s no use in getting upset. He can’t change anything that’s already happened.

Just breathe.

“Dude, did you just stop yourself from freaking out on me?” Mac asks.

Dennis inhales deeply and nods.

“That’s awesome!” Mac exclaims, followed by a round of wheezy coughing. “I’m so proud of you, Den!”

He rolls his eyes. Keeps folding his laundry. Tries not to smile.

“D’we have any popsicles?” Mac rasps, moving past it. “My throat hurts.”

Dennis nods. “What kind do you want?”

“Blue.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Blue is not a flavor, Mac.”

Mac looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “Blue’s the best flavor, Den.”

“But it’s not a…” He lets himself trail off. “Right. You’re right.”

Mac smirks. “Course. ‘m always right.”

Dennis grabs a blue raspberry popsicle out of the freezer. He opens it and wraps the exposed stick in a paper towel just in case it starts to melt. Mac sits up ever so slightly and makes grabby hands as Dennis approaches. His fingers linger – just a little bit – as he grabs the popsicle, and Dennis tries not to focus on the lump growing in his throat. Mac looks… different like this. No hair gel. Comically oversized t-shirt. Droopy, bloodshot eyes. It’s the kind of Mac that he likes coming home to daily, versus the one who’s always invading his personal space without permission or the Mac who irritates the hell out of him for no reason at all.

“Can we watch a movie? I’m bored,” Mac pouts. His lips are stained blue.

“I doubt you’ll make it twenty minutes into a movie,” Dennis says. “Why don’t we watch TV instead?”

Mac’s bottom lip juts out. He looks ridiculous. “But I wanna watch Predator, Den.”

He keeps licking and sucking on the popsicle. Dennis tries hard to ignore it.

“Fine.”

So that’s what they do.

Dennis abandons folding laundry for popping in the DVD and settling down in bed. Mac finishes his popsicle, throws the trash on the floor, and immediately sinks down until his head is nestled on Dennis’ shoulder. Dennis pulls the covers over both of them.

It turns out that Dennis is right, as he always is. Mac makes it fifteen minutes into Predator before falls asleep, snoring softly against the skin of Dennis’ neck.

~

Dennis drives out to the bar that night.

Honestly, he’s terrified about leaving Mac alone, but he doubts he’ll even stir while he’s gone. Mac ate a healthy dinner of chicken tenders and fries about an hour ago; he passed out less than five minutes after he finished his plate. Dennis made sure to bundle him up, keep the TV on since Mac has this thing about the dark, and leave a note on his own pillow just in case he wakes while he’s gone.

He doesn’t intend on being away for more than an hour.

Dennis enters Paddy’s to find Charlie covered from head to toe in marshmallow, his hair sticking up straight with the stuff. Dee and Frank have splotches of it on their clothing too. The bar smells of fresh baked goods, but in a weirdly off-putting way. Almost like rancid vanilla. He doesn’t know, nor does he care. This part of the gang – the part without Dennis and Mac – is… dumb as shit, for the lack of a more elegant phrase.

He heads behind the bar with a huff and begins emptying all the bowls of peanuts into the trash.

This, of course, sparks a controversy.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, dude?” Charlie screeches, waving his arms around like the Goddamn idiot he is.

“Mac’s allergic to peanuts,” Dennis says simply. “So I’m throwing away all the peanuts.”

“Like hell you are!” Frank exclaims, spitting as he speaks. “Free peanuts are the cornerstone of Paddy’s!”

Dennis rolls his eyes. “I thought that was thin limes?”

“Thick limes!” Frank yells. Then he looks confused. “Wait a minute. What side was I on for the lime thing?”

“I don’t care,” Dennis answers. He starts to clean the bar with Clorox wipes, knocking peanut shells to the floor.

“I’m with Charlie and Frank on this one,” Dee interjects because of course she does. Fucking bird.

“Dee… We were, like, talking,” Charlie says.

Frank nods. “No one asked you, bird.”

“Hey, that’s not fair! My opinion is important. Right, Dennis?”

Dennis finishes wiping the bar and moves onto sweeping the floor. “I don’t care,” he repeats.

Jesus Christ, there are so many fucking peanuts and peanut shells down here. This is definitely not a safe environment for Mac.

Mac.

He tries not to think about Mac waking up alone and sick in the apartment.

Dennis starts to speed up his cleaning process while remaining thorough and diligent about making the bar peanut free.

“Are you even listening to us, man?” Charlie asks, stepping in front of Dennis’ trash pile. His battered Vans are caked in marshmallow fluff.

“No.”

“I see what this is,” Dee says. “He’s all worked up about Mac.”

Dennis stops sweeping. “He’s sick. Of course I’m worked up.”

“He’s not sick, asshole. He’s just allergic to peanuts.”

“And tree nuts!” Dennis exclaims. “He’s allergic to peanuts and tree nuts, and this bar is absolutely riddled with them!”

“Aw, look at you taking care of him,” Dee teases, sipping at her beer.

Dennis’ eyes narrow. He chooses not to interact. He chooses not to explode into a rage-filled ball. He chooses to ignore.

He wants to threaten to cut her into a billion tiny, unrecognizable pieces, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he just pinches the bridge of his nose.

Dee continues on making her noises and shit. Charlie and Frank do too. But Dennis doesn’t care.

He mops the floor. Gets rid of their peanut inventory in the storeroom. Takes out the garbage. Washes his hands in the bathroom. Fills the former peanut bowls with chips. Puts on his coat. Listens to 3/5 of the gang scream over each other about some shit he couldn’t care less about. 

“No more nuts,” Dennis announces as he’s about to leave Paddy’s.

They all wave him off.

~

After three days of recuperating, Mac feels well enough to go to work.

Dennis finishes putting anti-itch ointment on the last of Mac’s hives. “Are you sure you don’t want to take it easy for another day?”

“Nah. I feel fine.”

Mac coughs wetly, and Dennis’ eyes widen.

“Mostly fine,” Mac interjects with a shrug.

“Are you sure? You still look really tired, and I don’t want you to over–”

“Dennis, I’m fine.”

He nods. Mac rolls down his shirtsleeve once the ointment is mostly dry.

The drive to work is peaceful. Dennis lets Mac pick the music. Mac is quiet and keeps stealing glances at Dennis when he thinks Dennis isn't watching.

When they arrive at the bar, Charlie is waiting at the front door. "Guys, I have news!" he exclaims.

"Why don't we let Mac get settled in first before we spring the news on him, huh?" Dennis asks, placing his hand on the small of Mac's back and guiding him into Paddy's. He keeps his hand there until Mac is seated on a barstool with zero possibility of danger. He pats his jeans pocket for the thousandth time this afternoon, feeling for Mac's EpiPen. 

"Beer?" Dennis asks Mac, ignoring everyone else around them.

Mac nods. "Sure."

Dennis opens it for him. Mac takes a tentative sip. 

"Can I tell you my news now?" Charlie asks, his voice becoming increasingly high pitched and annoying.

"Sure, pal," Dennis says.

"Great! So it all started when Frank -"

But Dennis isn't listening. Obviously, neither is Mac. Because Mac's eyes are focused on the chip - formerly peanut - bowls in front of him. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, he rubs the rim of the bowl with his index finger and looks sheepishly at Dennis.

Dennis shrugs nonchalantly and takes a swig of his own beer. 

Mac smiles, small and thankful. 

~

"You replaced the peanuts with chips," Mac says as they enter the apartment. He drapes his leather jacket over the pink inflatable chair. 

Dennis swallows thickly. "Uh... yeah. I did."

"And you cleaned our whole apartment."

"From top to bottom."

Mac just looks at him, a kind of look that makes Dennis wildly uncomfortable. "And you did all of that for me?"

"Well it certainly wasn't for me," Dennis says. He toes off his tennis shoes and settles them by the front door. He doesn't like where this conversation is going.

Mac sighs. "Huh."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dennis asks.

"That was nice of you," is all Mac says.

Dennis' eyebrows furrow this time. "I'm always nice, Mac."

Mac shakes his head. "No, you're definitely not," he says. "But you're getting nicer. Since you started taking your meds and stuff again. I like it."

Dennis nods, skin burning brightly. He kicks his socked toe at invisible dust on the floor, hands stuffed deep into his jeans pockets. "Yeah, well..." He isn't sure what to say next, so he doesn't say anything at all. 

"Thanks, Den... Y'know, for looking out for me and making me feel more better."

Mac takes a seat on the inflatable couch. Dennis follows suit, unsure of what to do or how to make this horrible, bubbly feeling inside him go away. 

"You're welcome, man. I like taking care of you."

"I like taking care of you too."

An uneasy silence falls upon the apartment, the kind of silence that slices Dennis to his core. He doesn't like all this... this tenderness. It makes him feel weak and strange.

But Mac's staring at him, puppy dog eyes shining brightly in the faint Philadelphia night.

Dennis flinches when Mac puts his hand on his forearm.

"Can I kiss you?" Mac asks softly, so softly Dennis almost doesn't register the question.

Dennis nods.

Mac's lips are soft. He tastes like cherry chapstick, the stuff he often steals from Dennis. It tastes sweet, like freshly pulled taffy on a hot summer afternoon. 

He can get used to this. 

[ninthhousedyke]

Nona The Ninth Live Blog - #4

Okay so now that I’ve screamed, cried, and thrown up processed the last few chapters I have some more concrete thoughts to give about Day 3.

Kiriona Gaia huh? Damn, that was not the direction I saw that going. I distinctly remember writing a fanfiction idea where John fucks around with Gideon’s memories and makes her his genocidal daughter, but never did I think TM would actually GO in that direction. Not saying Kiriona’s nuts, hell I’m not even sure if she’s alive yet because she just kinda did nothing except sit there. Maybe John’s just placing Gideon’s corpse around and doing necromancy so she looks alive while he tries to figure out how to unravel her soul from Harrow? Cause he did say that it was impossible to take Gideon’s and Harrow’s souls apart at the end of GTN, so maybe Kiriona is just a corpse? Maybe?

Although villain!Gideon would be hot…..

And what is the significance of Kiriona as a name? Like I tried to look it up and there’s not much but apparently it IS a Māori name, and one variation of it (Kiriana) actually means ‘lord’ which I found funny, but otherwise there’s not much else. I get the Gaia part because John’s surname is the male version of Earth so Kiriona gets the female version as a surname.

Anyway, other news…IANTHE! WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED HERE?

She’s a brunette now? She’s using Naberius in her name? She’s a Prince? She’s one of the Tower Princes? What the fuck? Something’s gotta be SERIOUSLY wrong for Ianthe to WILLINGLY put Naberius’ name anywhere within her own AND change her appearance. I’m counting this on my Nona Predictions Bingo as her becoming more unhinged because this is a scary level of Ianthe behavior.

there’s probably a good reason for the title change, but I’m loving the thought that because Ianthe was the only Lyctor left John looked at her and said, “you know what? You get a promotion.” And just whipped up a higher title for her because he had nothing better to do.

The water levels rising in John’s dreams is the River, maybe? Is he actually dreaming or is he in some type of stasis within the River? Trying to find Harrow’s body? Back to my above theory that Kiriona isn’t actually alive and John is just stalling, is he using the River to track Harrow and Gideon’s thalergy to find them and take Gideon’s soul back, but in the meantime just trauma dumping to Harrow?

Whoever he’s speaking to doesn’t seem like Harrow though?? Like he calls her Harrow but then he keeps referencing “they didn’t care about you” as if she were around during the original Earth when that’s impossible since Harrow is a descendent of Anastasia.

Also also, the fact MERCY was an atheist, then went on to found probably the most insanely religious House (the Eighth) is equally sad and hilarious.

Hot Sauce I will die for you. You are precious. You are such a painful echo of Jeannemary, which I think is the point. Also, who are you working for? If it’s not BOE then who else? A more unorthodox faction of BOE? Another rebel group we don’t know yet? I just want to wrap you in blankets and give you Mac and Cheese; please don’t go to war and die baby.

The Angel has GOT to be important somehow. Undercover BOE? Undercover Cohort? WHO ARE YOU

Pyrrha? Where are you?? Don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead. Please don’t die yet. I know you probably will but I’ve only had you for 100 pages so please don’t die yet.

ALSO so Gideon is the skull painted face Nona is seeing in her dreams? I just assumed it was Harrow’s, or even Anastasia, but it’s GIDEON! This just cements my theory that Nona is Harrow with brain damage or amnesia of some kind (overexposure to the River?) cause who else would dream about Gideon?

Also love how Harrow in literally any form will always fall for Gideon’s eyes. They are pretty aren’t they baby.

Tamsyn Muir giving us two female characters with the typically masculine royal title of ‘Prince’ is making me feel war and fuzzy inside.

Back to John’s background monologue dream stuff, like dude I don’t know what to tell you but if someone just randomly erected a wall of animal corpses to fend off the cops I don’t think it’s reasonable to expect many people to be on your side. Like ACAB and everything but a wall of animal bodies as a defense? Yeah not really a good “hey trust me” moment.

ALSO I don’t know if it was in this section but the lines “what’s the internet?” “See I did create a utopia” are still making me cackle. Because on the one hand that’s hilarious, but on the completely other hand, John baby literally every single thing you touch now needs copious therapy, so I think we need to rethink the definition of utopia. if I have to choose between resurrection beasts, burning people in cages, necromantic death cults, body-soul fuckery, and planet murder or the internet I’m gonna choose the internet.

I think that’s all my thoughts! I’m dying to read more but I have stupid homework to do (screams) and my cold is clinging to me desperately so maybe I’ll post another live blog tomorrow. For now, here’s my updated Nona Bingo sheet! I also realized I can’t get a diagonal Bingo because I was struggling hardcore to make my app work with me as I made this, and I did not have that many good predictions in the first place because I have a ✨smooth brain✨ but I can still get a Bingo up and down or 4 corners. (Do I really want a Bingo though? Like is that really something I’m aspiring to?)

[skellebonez]

How's about 45 and 54 where canon MK finds himself in the Inverted AU Universe? Because I think that'd be funny

Poor MK is having the second worst day of his entire life. This is not the situation he should be in AFTER THE FINALE. This would have been way different if I wrote this when you sent it in, but now you get a very sad Monkie Kid.

You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child./ Yeah well dying generally puts a damper on things.

When MK was knocked out they were on the deck of the drone ship, fighting off some kind of demon that the White Bone Spirit had taken under her control.

When MK woke up they were on the sandy shores of Mount Huaguo surrounded by baby monkeys and one Six-Eared Macaque looking down at them with a face of great concern.

“Are you-” Macaque started to ask them, unable to finish his sentence when MK screamed and kicked out and just barely missed making contact that would have sent him flying backwards into the nearest tree. “Whoa, no, it’s alright! I’m not-”

“What did you do to me this time, Macaque!?” MK yelled, looking around for a weapon, any weapon, something they could use to defend themself. Their eyes fell on something familiar, something that shouldn’t exist anymore and they froze at the sight of red and gold.

“Little one, is your name MK?” Macaque asked softly, holding up his hands as he slowly walked forward back toward the started and confused young adult before him. “I found you washed up on the shore. You need to lay back down, you’re still-”

Macaque let out a yelp of surprise as MK dove, hand firmly grasping the familiar warm-cold center of the staff.

But it felt... wrong, somehow.

They didn’t let go.

"OK, WHAT IS HAPPENING!?" MK shouted, holding the stolen staff in front of them as they turned on the immortal monkey that was their one time mentor. "Is this Jin and Yin again? Is this the Calabash!? Did they change it so my stuff doesn’t work in it anymore!? I'm not falling for that again!"

"I'm sorry, the what?" A new voice rang from behind him. One a little... too familiar...

It was MK. It shouldn't be possible, not if the Calabash was working the same way it had worked before, but it was them. But not.

Like... the way the staff felt.

The Other MK standing in the too bright sun wore a stark sky blue and black instead of his signature orange and red, a large hefty backpack in that same blue slung over his back. And he was... tall. Not unusually tall, just taller than MK was. And also looked incredibly angry as he carried a box of medical supplies.

"The... Calabash..." MK repeated, holding the staff closer to their chest with a nervous gulp. Their hands twisted around the staff nervously, hoping the repetitive action would ground them against the repeating 'THERE IS ANOTHER YOU STARING AT YOU WHAT THE HELL' whizzing in their head. "This... this isn't Jin and Yin again after all, is it?"

MK gulped again, blinking as their vision swam suddenly and their head felt like it was filled with... something. Like liquid but if it was as light as air.

"I don't know which answer would be better for you," Macaque said softly, honesty palpable in his tone. Something so odd for the Monkie Kid to hear in their ears with that voice. "But no. We are very much real."

"Oh..." MK said plainly. "Oh that's bad. That's... Oh boy..."

Before their eyes rolled back in their head and they passed out they were pretty sure they saw a few more overly familiar faces rushing to them.

~

When MK woke a second time they were once again moved, but to somewhere else far less familiar than the shores of Mount Huaguo and the drone ship... but also too familiar. They also now realized that their head hurt... a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

“Finally, you’re back from the brink of death,” that same overly familiar voice rang our in their ear. They snapped their head to the side, regretting it instantly as it made their vision swim again and lights pop in front of their eyes. “Hey, no, don’t do that!"

The other MK jumped up, kneeling down in front of them and poked them in the forehead. His scowl didn’t seem to let up in the slightest, but it tilted in a way that felt more concerned than angry.

"... why am I looking at my own face?" MK asked, not sure whether they should continue to stare at their own face or to look anywhere else to keep their brain from short circuiting trying to process what the actual hell was happening.

“Considering you were able to pick up my staff,” the other MK said, removing his finger and gesturing to the rod that was still across MK’s chest (how had he not noticed the extra weight of it still in his hand?). “I’d say we have some kind of multi-dimensional bullshitery going on here. Unless you’re, somehow, a robot made of the same shit Red used to get the that thing in the first place, but I don’t think robots bleed from head injuries.”

Ah. That would explain why his head felt like someone had cracked it open and shoved cotton balls into it.

MK looked around, taking in the stark white walls and the overly clean smell and the clean white sheets they were laid on.

“... am I at the hospital?”

“Oh, absolutely!” Other MK yelled, raising his arms in frustration as he paced the room in a familiar excess of energy. “But unfortunately for us you don’t exactly exist here! So we’re figuring out a way to make them believe you’re me with some really fucked up memories my dude! Which is easier with, you know.”

The other MK knocked on his head twice, wincing a bit as the second knock seemed to be harder than intended.

“... but you’re..?”

“I snuck in.”

“OK, well, thanks for the help,” MK started, sitting himself up with more than a little struggle. “But I need to figure out what the heck happened and get back to-!”

“Oh no you don’t!” Other MK said, jumping on the bed and standing over him. That was... well, MK would definitely say that was a very weird but effective way of keeping someone from getting up. “Macaque already ran off without letting me stop him, I barely got him to take some backup, to figure out what in the hell is happening. You are me and I know myself and if you ever tell anyone this I will end you, but you are way too injured to be doing anything right now!”

“I have to do something, Other Me-”

“No, oh no I hate that, just call me Blue,” the other MK said, the scowl on his face softened ever so slightly once again. Just slightly. “It’s a lot better than ‘other me’. And there’s nothing we can do until Macaque gets us some answers.”

"So... what, Blue? Am I just supposed to sit around and wait for someone to come and rescue me if he finds nothing!?" MK snapped, grip on their staff tightening so much that their knuckles paled and creaked in stress. "Just do nothing while who knows what happens to my friends!?"

"No," Blue said, placing his hand on MK's shoulder and frowning when the other shrugged it off and curled in on themselves. "But hurting yourself isn't going to help you get back to them. And as long as you’re here you’re my responsibility.”

“I’m a grown ass adult, you should know that.”

“Yeah, well, dying generally puts a damper on things and you’re not so adult that you can’t escape death,” Blue said, letting himself fall back into a sitting position on the bed. “Unless you got to keep your invulnerability or something, but given the crack in your noggin that doesn’t seem... like...” Blue trailed off, looking at MK with an odd expression. “... are you ok? Like. Emotionally?”

“Huh?”

“You’re crying.”

MK wrestled with one of their hands to free it’s iron grip on the staff (not their staff, their staff was gone, they had to remind themselves that their staff was gone and... and so was so much else), raising to their cheek to discover that at some point in Blue’s retort they had indeed started crying.

“... what happened to you?”

“It’s a long story,” MK said, wiping their face on their arm (they now realized they were wearing hospital dressing). “I...” They grabbed the staff with their now free hand again, twisting the grip carefully and freeing the iron hold their other hand had. “Can I just... keep this for a bit longer?”

Blue looked at MK, looking between the other him and the staff that was rightfully his before sighing and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Not like I need it right this second,” he said, his scowl vanishing completely as he stood and yanked over his backpack and put it back on after he pulled a baseball cap out and squished his hair into it and pulled it down to cover his face. “There’s gonna be someone here with you at all times until you get out, just to keep you in the loop of what’s going on here. We’ll figure out where you’re staying if Mac doesn’t figure out a way to get you home by tonight.” He moved toward the entrance to the room, turning back before opening it. “I’ll be back, I gotta restock my bag. There’s a couple people who wanna talk to you already... don’t... freak out.”

Before MK could ask what Blue meant the young man opened the door and slipped out, talking to someone just out of his line of vision before running off down the hall.

And then they saw the overly familiar sight of Pigsy and Tang... except they weren’t.

Pigsy, their Pigsy, was always in a chef’s uniform unless he was sleeping. Rough edges softened when he smiled or looked at MK or Mei with that exasperated look that MK knew meant he cared. Tang, their Tang, was a scholar who looked the part in every way, old fashioned clothes and books in hand. Always smiling when he could manage it and carefree.

This Pigsy was.. soft. And fluffy. Literally soft and fluffy. And wore oversized sweaters and smiled in a way that fit more on someone else’s face but felt right at home on his. This Tang was...

Well, the only way MK could think to describe the man before them was “skinny biker with probably hidden muscles who would kick your ass”. He looked the same but his hair was more wild, sunglasses pushing his bangs up, decked out in a (probably fake) leather jacket... but he had the same scarf.

And he and Pigsy were holding hands.

“I suppose you already know who we are,” the biker version of Tang said, smile on his face very awkward and seeming somewhat forced in a “I don’t know if this is helping but I’m gonna try” kind of way. “And we know who... you are. Kinda.”

“Yeah,” MK responded, thinking for a moment back to when he was found on the beach. “Were you... were you the ones with Blue, the other me, on Mount Huaguo?”

“Yeah,” the soft Pigsy said and... wow, hearing that voice say something so gently so casually was throwing him through a loop. “M-Blue was convinced we needed to get out of the city for the day and brought us along for his training. We didn’t expect to find... well, another him...” Pigsy frowned, the first one MK saw on his face and it felt so much more openly worried than their own Pigsy’s scowls. “How are you feeling?”

MK looked down at the staff in their hands, then back up to the two men in front of them.

They weren’t the two people MK considered father figures. They weren’t. But they were. And as MK tried to process this they felt their breathing speed up faster and faster and faster until-

“Hey,” Tang said, gentle and soft voice breaking MK from their racing thoughts as he reached out to put a hand in MK’s hair but stopped himself short. Probably in remembering that they weren’t Blue. “You can stay with us if you want. Once you’re discharged and if you need somewhere to stay.”

Well... that didn’t help at all.

No.

Instead it opened the floodgates and MK started crying harder than they had since the final fight with the White Bone Spirit, curling in on themselves as the last few days and what had transpired really hit them.

“What the FUCK did you do!?” He heard his own voice shout from the doorway.

~

It looked like PIgsy’s apartment. But not.

MK’s hands clenched at air, wishing they still had the staff for comfort. But no, they insisted that Blue take it back when they were discharged.

Blue was still the Monkie Kid after all. He needed the staff to fight.

MK... was just MK here. And they couldn’t fight, not while recovering from their injuries anyway.

But oh how they wish they hadn’t given it back. It felt so right and yet so wrong to hold it. They didn’t realize how much they had grown attached to the object until it was...

“MK?” Once again Pigsy’s voice startled him, not for the first time since they arrived at the apartment and MK took up the extra bedroom that this world’s counterpart had once stayed in until the apartment above the shop opened up for them. “Do you need anything?”

“No,” they responded, hands gripping the edge of their jacket in an attempt to hold something solid. It wasn’t the same. “I can handle myself.”

“I know you can, but you don’t have to,” Pigsy said, coming into the room holding a cup of water and putting it on the nightstand. “And you don’t have to talk to us, if you don’t want to... but it’d probably help. Even if you just ramble about something.”

Had this been the other Pigsy he probably would have something something like “You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child”. Something firm and gruff and filled with underlying affection for the younger adult. But this Pigsy... there was some of that there. A firmness to his words, though the gruffness was missing. But he could feel the affection he must have had for Blue transferring to themself, the knowledge that they weren’t the same person holding most of it back.

But it was still there.

And MK hadn’t really talked to anyone since the short lived argument with Blue.

“... You uh...” they started, chuckling quietly as they twisted their fingers together. “You said you own a flower shop? My Pigsy, uh... he, runs a noodle shop.”

It wasn’t going to help. MK was certain that talking about their family and friends and how different they were would probably make how he felt worse.

But sitting there and ignoring it would make it worse far quicker in their mind.

So MK talked. For hours. Eventually Tang joined the two, both listening as MK recalled all the differences and similarities and...

Well. They listened. Just like their own Pigsy and Tang would.

... they wondered if they would ever get to go back.